Page 39 of The Last Shadow

Damien’s jaw tightens, his eyes clouded with something I can’t quite read. “I wish I could believe that,” he says softly, almost as if he’s talking to himself. “But sometimes the truth can change everything.”

“What do you mean?” My heart pounds as I search his face for any sign of reassurance. Something, anything, that will make this better.

Damien rises to his feet, and runs a hand through his hair, looking away. “There are things from my past, Francesca, things I want to keep in the past. For your sake, not mine.”

“For my sake?” I push back from the chair, standing to face him fully. “Damien, if you think keeping me in the dark is protecting me, you’re dead wrong. I need to know. I deserve to know.”

His eyes lock onto mine again, filled with a mix of regret and hesitation. “You deserve the truth, yes……but once you have it, everything changes. There’s no going back.”

The cabin feels colder suddenly, my nerves buzzing with unease. “What are you so afraid of, Damien?” I ask.

He exhales slowly, his shoulders sagging under the weight of whatever he’s carrying. “I’m afraid of losing you,” he admits, his voice rough.

The words hit me hard, but they aren’t enough. Not this time. “You won’t lose me,” I say, but even I can hear the uncertainty in my voice. “Unless you keep lying to me. Then I’ll walk.”

His face hardens. “I’ve told you what matters. But there are things you don’t need to know.”

The air between us grows thick, each passing second making me feel like I’m standing on the edge of a cliff. “Why don’t you let me decide what I need to know?” I say, my hands trembling.

Damien stays silent, his eyes flicking away from mine as if he can’t face me.

“Damien,” I say, my voice quieter now. “What have you done?”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Frankie

It’s been over a week, and Damien still won’t tell me about whatever dark secret he’s hiding. I tell myself it’s nothing, that it isn’t a colossal red flag begging me to bolt like my life depends on it. I mean, geez, we just got married.

And Damien is much too charming for me to even think of running for the hills. I love him. I just wish he would be honest with me.

But this morning, he’s gone again, so I pick up the phone to call Amelia. As the phone rings and I wait to hear the familiar warmth of her voice, I wonder if she’s someone I can trust or if she’s also part of the corruption.

It’s too late to question it, though. “Hey newlywed! I thought you forgot about us single people.” She laughs and the sound is so welcome I can almost see her in my mind’s eyes. “Kidding, of course. How are things?”

“Good,” I answer, but the word sounds like a lie, even to me.

“Good is not what I was expecting,” she replies easily. “I was thinking more like mind-blowing, insanely romantic or the best time ever. What’s up?”

I want to tell Amelia she’s been right all along, that Damien’s control over me runs deeper than I ever realized, but the words stick in my throat. I’m not ready to admit it, not even to myself, let alone say it out loud.

“It’s actually great here. Gorgeous and super romantic,” I say instead, the lie feeling heavier than I expected. “Damien’s off doing God knows what, so I figured I’d check in on you.”

“Oh, that’s sweet. I’m good. Bored out of my mind with you gone. No one else really cares about me. Except for Nick. He’s been keeping me company, surprisingly.”

A sharp pang hits me at that, but I push it down quickly. “Good for you,” I reply, trying to keep my voice light.

I don’t know who I can trust right now, but Amelia’s good at what she does. And I need her insight. “Actually, I’ve been thinking about the case, and I wanted your opinion. What if something happened to The Butcher, and now he’s out for revenge? Would that change his profile?”

There’s this long pause, and I start to think Amelia’s going to tell me to chill out and enjoy my getaway. But I hear her sigh, like she’s really thinking through it. “You know, that makes sense. If revenge is driving him, it could explain a lot. A mix of vengeance and psychopathy? That could really make for a dangerous killer.”

“Wait, really?” I sit up a little straighter, surprised by her insight. “Is there any way we could figure out which kid from Hope House fits that profile?”

“Honestly? Not without talking to them personally or knowing their backgrounds,” she says. “And the records are surprisingly slim. But if you’ve got a suspect in mind…hey, wait, you’re not suggesting that Damien could be involved in the murders, are you? You’re safe up there, right?”

A laugh escapes me. “Oh my God, no way! Are you kidding me? You’ve been diving into that psycho research a bit too long. I’m totally safe with my husband! I was just thinking about all those kids from Hope House. If we could dig into their pasts, we might learn something that ties into this revenge angle.”

“Okay, but if you notice anything weird, promise you’ll let me know? I can look into it on my end.”

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